


Doctor

by Ophelia_Tagloff



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dirty Talk, Doctor/Patient, Explicit Sexual Content, Flirting, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 08:24:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2381576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ophelia_Tagloff/pseuds/Ophelia_Tagloff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's what it sounds like. Tom is a hot doctor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor

Your damn dress kept riding up your thighs. You should have worn something already in your closet instead of going out and buying this new dress to make a good first impression.

 

You had wanted to look competent and confident. Instead, you kept fidgeting to keep the wretched thing in place and whenever you bent any way at all, you felt like your boobs were about to spill out of the top.

 

You scanned the room. Lots of big shots from the local medical community. You tried to locate the man you were here to speak with. Unable to find him, you blew your bangs our of your eyes, tugged the hem of your dress down, and grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing server. It was your third and you were not known for holding your drink well, but you’d do just about anything to calm your nerves.

 

You walked your slightly fuzzy mind through the background details you had gathered. Dr. Tom Hiddleston, the brand new Chief Resident at the city’s largest hospital. Young. Eligible. Fresh from Great Britain. You were sent by your editor to get a fluffy quote from him to go with the pre-approved photo you had been given. You had been assigned a five page spread of the city’s 25 most eligible bachelors. Yes, this is exactly what you had dreamed of when you got your journalism degree.

 

You had been able to reach bachelors 1-24 by phone, but had Dr. Hiddleston proved difficult to contact. You were hoping you could grab his attention at this medical benefit.

 

Meet the guy. Get the quote. Go home and put this piece to bed. Submit it tomorrow and beg your editor for the chance to work on an actual piece of news.

 

You knocked back the remaining contents of the champagne flute and decided to take a walk around the room to see if Dr. British-and-Eligible had even showed up. It would be just your luck if he didn’t show at all. You wondered if you could return the dress.

 

You began to weave around groups of chatting guests and soon you saw him standing at the bar with no less than three older men around him, laughing, patting each other on the back and being generally self-congratulatory.

 

Alright, here we go. Meet the guy. Get the quote. Get home and put this non-story to bed. You pulled your hem down one last time checked your cleavage to make sure all was covered properly, and strode toward him.

 

You soon reached him and extended your hand.

 

"Dr. Hiddleston."

 

He turned toward you and his eyes swept over your curves.

 

"Hello there," he smiled.

 

"I’ve been trying to reach you," you began, immediately regretting taking this tack.

 

He raised an eyebrow and his smile widened. He was much taller than you had anticipated. You tried to adjust your posture to make every inch of your height count. Your breasts strained at the top of your dress. Damn it all, that was not what you meant to do.

 

"Oh?" he licked his lips, and his gaze darted to your chest, then back up."Well, here I am. Won’t you join me?" He motioned to a pair of bar stools. You perched on one, crossing your legs, then immediately uncrossing them as your skirt hitched up to the point of being almost indecent. You willed yourself not to fidget, deciding that leaving your skirt high on your thighs would be less embarrassing than hastily yanking it down.

 

He took the other stool, long legs set wide, his elbow casually on the bar, one long index finger draped over his lips. His gaze alighted on your legs and his brow furrowed for an instant. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, his finger scratching the stubble on his chin.

 

"How can I help you, Miss..?"

 

You gave him your name, and began explaining. “I just need a quote, really,” you finished, “a few words to put with the picture.”

 

"Ahh," he looked up at the ceiling, "Let me think."

 

You waited. Now that he wasn’t looking directly at you, your eyes could roam more freely. You knew he was handsome from the pictures you had seen, but they didn’t even begin to capture how attractive he was.

Attractive was really the right word, you decided. You felt positive pulled toward him. His hand was at play on his own knee, drawing little circles with his long index finger there as he was lost in thought. You couldn’t pull your eyes away. You could imagine how his fingers would feel on your knee, sliding up your thigh, tracing little circles all the way up to…

 

Dr. Hiddleston cleared his throat. You met his gaze, praying he didn’t notice. He raised both eyebrows for an instant, whether in acknowledgment or question you weren’t sure.

 

Just don’t blush, you ordered yourself.

 

"I have something for you," he said lowly.

 

"Yes?" you breathed. His voice was dangerously sexy.

 

"I believe in love. I believe in romance. I believe in dancing." he smiled, pleased with himself.

 

You stared at him. “Really? Is that what you want me to print?”

 

"Is that not alright?" he asked.

 

You chuckled. “No, Dr. Hiddleston, it’s fine. Thank you for your time.”

 

You hopped down from the stool, not caring as much if your breasts jiggled or if your skirt rode up. “The article will run next weekend. I’ll have someone send a copy over to the hospital featuring your..er..quote.”

 

"Please, call me Tom." he extended his hand.

 

You shook it briskly. “It’s been a pleasure, Doctor. Thanks again.”

 

You turned on your heel and left the benefit.

***

 

Three Weeks Later

You sat red eyed alone in the hospital waiting room. The last five hours had been a manic blur, beginning with you answering a call from an unknown number. You had had to sit down when you spoke with the caller. Snippets of the conversation replayed in your head.

 

"Your brother."

 

"You’re his emergency contact." 

 

"There’s been an accident."

 

You had dropped everything, pissing off your editor, who was pressuring you to meet deadline. You had rushed to the hospital and then the waiting began. He had already been taken into surgery by the time you’d arrived. You hadn’t even had the chance to see him.

 

You weaved your fingers through your hair and rested your forehead in your hands.

 

I can’t lose him. All we have is each other.

 

"I thought that was you," a decidedly British voice came from the doorway.

 

You lifted your head. Dr. Hiddleston stood awkwardly in the open door.

You didn’t respond.

 

"I saw your boyfriend was brought in." he offered by way of explanation.

 

"My brother," you replied. "He’s my brother."

 

"Ah. I’m sorry. Our best surgeon is working on him. He’ll pull through fine."

 

"Thank you," you replied numbly.

 

"Can I get you anything?"

 

A time machine so I can go back and prevent this from happening? “No, I’m fine.”

 

"Ok. Well, if you need anything, you can have me paged."

 

"Thank you. It’s not necessary, but thank you," you returned your head to your hands.

 

"Right," he said.

 

You felt his presence there for a few moments, then heard him clear his throat and walk away.

Time passed slowly until you saw the surgeon walk into the waiting room.

 

"Things went much better to be expected," he told you, "he has a long road to full recovery, but after some weeks of physical therapy, he’ll be as good as new."

 

Relief washed over you, “Thank you so much for taking care of him.” You couldn’t keep from hugging the surgeon. “I’m sorry,” you said, “this is probably inappropriate.”

 

"It’s fine," he smiled, "I’m just glad I get to give you some good news."

 

Over the surgeon’s shoulder, you could see Tom standing in the doorway.

 

"Everything went well, I heard." he said.

 

"Yes," you smiled, "they took good care of him."

 

You squeezed the surgeon’s hand. Tom’s eyes rested on your joined hands for a moment.

 

"When can I see him, Doctor?"

 

Both men started to answer you at once. They glanced at each other and Tom motioned that the surgeon should speak. It was after all his patient.

 

"Around an hour," he told you.

 

You dropped the surgeon’s hand. “Alright. I haven’t eaten all day. I should grab a bite and I want to stop at the gift shop to pick up some balloons or flowers.”

 

You spun around to pick up your bag. The room began to tilt. The last thing you heard was Tom yelling, “Shit! Get a stretcher down here, STAT.”

**

You first awareness upon awakening was a very dry mouth. You licked your lips and tried to open your eyes. Your eyes felt heavy. You forced them open. You had a splitting pain in your head. You tried to sit up but felt so top heavy you gently laid back down. You were in a hospital bed. Bits and pieces of what happened filtered back into your memory.

 

Your brother. How was he? You rang the nurse’s call button. Moments later, Tom walked into the room. He had shed his lab coat, wearing trousers and a white button down shirt. His stethoscope was hung casually around his neck.

 

"You’re awake." he smiled

.  
"Yes. How’s my brother?" you asked.

 

"Resting calmly. Eating dinner. Watching bad telly." He sat on the bed next to you.

 

You smiled, “Sounds like him. Is he in much pain?”

 

"No." Tom answered, "but let’s focus on you now."

 

He reached behind you to grab something from the wall, leaning dangerously close, and the brought the small light up to look into your eyes. “How’s your head, darling?”

 

"Throbbing."

 

He put the light down and looked into your eyes, your faces just inches away. “I’ll order something for the pain.”

 

You looked at your lap, “Thank you.”

 

You noticed you were in a hospital gown. “Um. My clothes?”

 

"In the closet over there." he motioned with his head as he pulled the stethoscope into position.

 

"You?"

 

"No. I’m afraid I didn’t have that pleasure," he answered as he placed the stethoscope against your heart, his pinky tracing the swell of your left breast. You were braless, and you could feel your nipples peak at his touch. Your gazes locked.

 

"A nurse helped you into this fetching ensemble," he explained, "not quite as breathtaking as the one you were wearing the night I met you, but then you make everything look enticing."

 

You chewed on your bottom lip. He stood up to move behind you, his erection clearly visible. You sat up to allow him to sit behind you.

 

He swept your hair over one shoulder and untied the plain ribbon holding the gown closed. He opened the gown slightly and trailed the back of his fingers down your spine, stopping at the small of your back. He stroked you there with his thumb.

 

"So lovely," he whispered, putting one hand at your hip, holding you there, "Can you take some deep breaths for me, darling?"

 

He placed the stethoscope at your back, listening to your breath, each time he moved it to a different quadrant of your back, making sure to linger, dragging his fingers across your skin. Setting it aflame.

 

"Your breath seems shallow, darling." he spoke in a low voice, his mouth at your ear.

 

"I don’t think that it’s from the fall, Doctor." you whispered, closing your eyes. With just a few touches, this man had made your entire body ache for him. Your nipples pressed hard against the fabric of the hospital gown. You shifted your legs to relieve some of the tension he had built there.

The sweet earthy scent of your naked arousal filled your nostrils.

 

"No, I don’t think so, either," he said, "and please, call me Tom."

 

"Tom," you repeated as he placed an open mouthed kiss on the curve where your neck met your shoulder.

 

You moaned lightly.

 

"I really shouldn’t be doing this," he murmured, kissing your neck from behind languidly, taking his time, your head leaning back to rest against him, "but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Constantly. In that dress. Out of that dress. You’ve been haunting me."

 

His hand snaked under your gown to press against your belly and pull you to him. “I’ve been in my bed every night thinking about you. Now, here I have you finally. In a bed. Where I’ve been wanting you.”

 

His hand moved up to palm your breast. “Its not exactly an ideal situation. But it could be fun to act out this little fantasy.”

 

He began to knead your breast slowly. “You can tell me,” he whispered, “have you ever thought about something like this? A Doctor, like me, having his way with you?”

 

You couldn’t lie. “Yes, I have.”

 

He pinched your nipple, causing your body to jerk. “Of course you have, you naughty girl.”

 

"Darling," he leaned close to your ear, "would you like to share this little thing with me right now? This fantasy?"

 

His breath was hot on your ear, his hand slowly teasing your breast.

 

"Yes," you breathed. He groaned and immediately caught your earlobe between his teeth, his hand tightening against your breast.

 

In a quick movement, he was at the door, locking it. He turned to you. Something in his demeanor had shifted. Eyes darker, jaw more determined.

 

He sat on the edge of the bed once more and leaned over you, tilting your chin up to capture your lips in a kiss that was at first quite tender. He was holding back, giving you a chance to be certain you wanted this. His tongue slipped out to tease your lower lip, causing you to moan and weave your fingers in his curls, pulling hard. Something in him gave and your teeth clashed together as the kiss became violent. His tongue plunged into your mouth, twisting with yours, then thrusting in an obscene promise.

 

His hands groped at your hips trying to find the bottom of your gown, and coming up empty handed, decided to instead yank it off your shoulders, baring your breasts to him.

 

He broke your intense kiss and took in your naked torso.

 

"My God. You are beautiful. Do you know how much I’ve thought about this? How hard I’ve cum thinking about this?"

 

You ability to answer was squelched as he took one rosy nipple into his mouth, suckling heartily, then flicking a pointed tongue across the sensitive bud.

 

"Tell me," you moan, "Tell me, Tom."

 

Tom stood next to the bed, turning toward you. He began slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “Ever since I first saw you, I’ve been imagining you naked, having you every way possible.”

 

He shrugged the shirt off his trim, defined shoulders. His hands went to his belt. “Nearly every evening, I stroke my cock thinking of you. You make me so hard, I have to.”

 

He dropped his trousers and kicked off his shoes and socks. His generous cock jutted out proudly.

 

He pulled back the blankets and looked down at your body hungrily.

 

"Do you ever think of me like that?" He asked, crawling over you.

 

You didn’t know what to say.

 

"Do you?" he demanded, laying on top you, his face searching yours.

 

"I’m sorry Tom, I’ve…"

 

"You will now," he growled as he entered you with a long hard stroke, filling you up at once.

 

He stilled there savoring the feeling. You began to rock your hips against him, seeking friction.

 

"Oh, now you’re eager, are you? You wanton thing…" he kissed you, nibbling on your lower lip. He slid his hands up your arms, pinning them over your head.

 

"I am going to fuck you so achingly slow, you’ll never be able to stop thinking about it."

 

He began to rotate his hips against yours, keeping the pace steady, slowly stoking your fire. Your hands were still pinned above your head.

 

"Harder, Tom. Hit me harder," you moaned.

 

"Oh, no, darling. You’re not getting off that easy," he growled. "On your side, away from me."

 

You rolled over, his cock nestled against your ass. He hitched your knee over his hip and thrust into your slick cunt from behind. His hand moved to your clit and began to tease it lightly. You moaned loudly and leaned into his chest.

 

"That’s it darling, give in to it."

 

His free arm cradled you and he began to tease your breasts, kneading and rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

 

Your bodies rocked together with a smooth steady rhythm, Tom expertly building your arousal to the point of madness. He began putting more pressure on your engorged clit, sliding his finger down on it repeatedly.

 

"Tom.."

 

"Yes, love. Fuck," he gritted his teeth and pinched your nipple.

 

"God!" you cried, "I’m close!"

 

"Yes. Fuck. Come. I need to feel it. Give this to me." he growled.

 

His fingers worked your clit harder, then pushed you past the point of stopping, your cunt gripped his cock tightly and your body convulsed, then collapsed.

 

You lay there for a few moments, Tom’s cock still hard against you.

 

"You are astonishing," he whispered against your neck.

 

You smiled, “That was me reacting to what you were doing.”

 

"Then I guess it was a joint effort." he smiled and reflexively ground his cock against your ass.

 

"Tom?"

 

"Yes?"

 

"Are you hard again already?"

 

"No," he laughed, "not again. I am hard still."

 

You smiled and rolled him onto his back. You crawled over his body and covered his lips with yours, teasing and tasting, you caught his bottom lip between his teeth and at that moment you slid down on his cock.

 

He bucked his hips into you and grabbed your body.

 

"Did you think about this, Tom?" You rocked your hips while sitting upright on his cock.

 

"Fuck. Yes." he moaned.

 

"Did you cum thinking about this?" You bounced down on his cock hard.

 

He cried out, “Yes!”

 

"Tom, look at me," you said.

 

He opened his eyes.

 

You licked your lips and started to play with your breasts. “The night we met…”

 

"Yes?" he whispered, strained.

 

"I couldn’t stop thinking about you fucking me with your fingers."

 

"Oh, fuck.." he moaned, spilling into you, his hips arching off the bed, gripping your hips tightly.

 

You lay on his chest, stroking the light dusting of chest hair.

 

He kissed the top of your head. “I think my patient needs some rest,” he spoke softly.

 

You looked up at him. “Under one condition.”

 

"Mmm?"

 

"We get to play doctor again later."

 

Tom grinned, “Darling, you can count on it.”


End file.
